and I want to run as far as I can with you
by Swanandapirate
Summary: She asked him to run away with her, to drive around, explore the country and live while they were young. And when she asks, he agrees. Road trip AU
1. Chapter 1

**Part one of two of my Captain Swan Secret Santa gift to smittenkillian. If you want to get in the mood, listen to Angela and Sleep On The Floor by The Lumineers. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone 3**

 **(Disclaimer: I have never set foot in the USA so sorry for any misrepresentations or unrealistic stuff)**

There are these people that know you inside out, that have shared happy moments and moments of sadness with you, people you trust with your life and could not imagine your life without. The rare ones. Emma Swan was Killian Jones' rare one. She was all of the above and more to him.

* * *

 _Storybrooke, Maine_

"I brought Chinese food," Killian yelled instead of greeting her, knowing the words would probably make her happy.

"Oh my god." Emma appeared out of her bedroom. "You are the best bestfriend ever," she squealed, lightly jumping up and down.

Killian chuckled. They'd been best friends for years and he was aware of her obsession with food, but it never ceased to amaze him how ecstatic she became every single time. The bags got set down on the black kitchen counter, the plastic crackling with the movement. Killian walked back to the entrance and removed his leather jacket to hang it on the coat rack. Emma revealed the food.

"Do you want wine or beer?" she asked when he returned to her.

"Beer." Killian peered around. "Are Mary Margaret and David not here?"

"No, they're on a date. It's their three-year anniversary today."

A flash of the refrigerator's fluorescent light appeared as Emma grabbed two bottles out of it. After opening both of them, she handed one to Killian.

"They've been together for three years? Bloody hell. It feels like yesterday."

He could still remember how David stared at Mary Margaret, very unsubtly may he add, at the party Emma had thrown. They had never met and even Emma and Killian had only recently founded a friendship. It took so much convincing on Killian's part to get David to accompany him, but he saw the reluctance vanish from his friend as soon as he entered the perky loft, as soon as he laid eyes on her raven pixie cut and her kind smile. One single moment and David was enamored.

"So," Killian started after swallowing a swig of beer. "that means that we've been friends little over three years, right?"

They both moved to the couch, their hands filled with Chinese dishes wrapped in boxes. The white containers got spread across the table and Emma and Killian settled into the leather couch.

"It does." A small smile appeared on her face. "I hope you're not sick of me yet," she jested, but he could hear the inkling of doubt in it, the slightest hint of a question.

Neither of them had had an easy childhood, or life for that matter. They were marked by years of abandonment, but at least Killian had his brother to love and support him. Emma, on the contrary, was all alone and the few people she did come to trust let her down in the worst possible ways.

She didn't like to talk about it, but sometimes, as the night grew darker and their conversation longer, she told a story from her past and so did he. The bits now formed a coherent whole, a life story without any blanks. They knew everything about each other but chose to focus on the present.

"Never, Swan," he said earnestly while his arm curled around her.

Emma leaned closer, resting her head on his shoulder, her blond hair covering his dark Henley.

"Thanks for the amazing three years." Her voice drifted somewhere between a whisper and a mutter, the emotion clearly discernible.

Killian gently kissed the top of her head.

"My pleasure."

He had the same amount of gratitude towards her as she had for him. They were twenty-two when they met, Liam had just died and Killian was a wreck. A living, breathing, but dying inside wreck.

He ate, drank, fell into a drunken, comatose sleep and woke up to repeat the process. When the money Liam left him started to dwindle, Killian was forced to break that habit. He had to go in search of a job and had to be sober enough to find anything decent. Eventually, he did find something, work in a town that was far enough from bad memories and where no one knew him; work that was physically requiring and would exhaust him and hopefully his brain as well; work by the sea, so he could breathe freely without restriction. He moved three days later.

"We should eat because there is nothing worse than cold chow mein."

Not wanting Emma to endure the travesty of lukewarm and therefore less delicious food, he let go of her. They both reached for their preferred dish, a ritual that had existed since week six of their friendship.

"How's work?" Emma asked and then stuffed a big bite of food in her mouth. Her hand came in front of it to hide her eating grace from him.

"Good," he answered. "Eric is giving me more responsibility. I've been doing more and more tours and just yesterday a woman tipped me one hundred dollars."

"No way!" Her eyes widened in shock.

"I am not kidding, Swan. She clearly fancied these dashing looks." The comment earned him an eye roll. "Sadly, she was also thirty years my senior."

Killian had felt flattered by the attention of the red-haired lady, but their age difference had been slightly too large to bridge. He molded his features into an exaggerated, disappointed look and one of Emma's amused laughs made its way to Killian's ears. Laughter that he gladly joined.

"What about you?" he requited as their laughter died down.

"Work's fine, I guess. Definitely not getting one hundred dollar tips," Emma said, her mood visibly turning.

"Oh oh, that doesn't sound convincing."

Killian set his food down and turned to face her, an inquiring eyebrow lifted upwards. She copied his movement.

"Pfff," Emma sighed, running her fingers through her hair. "I love Granny and all that, but I'm twenty-five and I don't want to spend the rest of my life waitressing in a diner." She folded her legs beneath her, wrapping her hands around her shins and keeping her gaze cast downwards.

"Then what do you want to do?"

Taking her time, Emma looked back up at Killian. Although he felt taken aback by her sudden confession, he gave her a reassuring smile, showing that he was there for her, that she could tell him anything she needed someone to talk with.

"I don't know." Emma shrugged.

It was quiet, he waited for the moment where she was going to admit that she did know. The moment where she was going to share her feelings. Giving her some time always worked with Emma.

"I really don't know, Killian," she repeated, figuring out his tactics. The annoyance in her voice betrayed that she did not like his approach.

"Alright." He raised his hands in a silent apology. "If you say so."

Killian frequently told Emma that he could read her like an open book; he wanted to do the same now, but she was visibly irritated, it would not be smart to worsen that. Telling her wasn't about boasting about his own skills, it was important for her to hear that he understood her, that she didn't need to try and voice everything she felt, every emotion that ran through her. He already knew. He also knew that Emma could struggle with that task.

They both resumed eating their Chinese food, an awkward tension between them. Killian wanted to say something but he could not figure out what. Was she that upset with him? That upset that she could not even stand talking to him?

He was still debating what he would say when Emma took matters into her own hands and broke the silence.

"I want to go."

"You want to go?" he questioned, confused about her statement.

This was her apartment, surely he should be the one to leave if she wanted to part from him.

"Away," was her still vague reply. "That's what I want to do. I want to leave on a trip and discover things."

Finally, Emma had told him what she was occupying her mind, she didn't need more than a bit of space to do so. Killian did feel surprised by this turn of events.

"We live in such a big country and yet, the only places I've been are Storybrooke and a couple of foster homes I stayed for a couple of months max," she continued speaking, her pace fast and it seemed like she would run out of air any second. "I want to explore. Meet new people. See why we are supposedly the greatest country in the world. You're British, so you've definitely not seen more than I have."

"I take it I have not, but that does not particularly matter if you are the one taking the trip, love."

Emma nervously nibbled on her lower lip and her eyes became pleading. Killian's brow furrowed ever so slightly as he tried to read her.

"Will you come with me?" she asked, and the nervous tics and begging eyes suddenly made sense.

"On a road trip?"

Emma nodded.

"With you?" Killian's head tilted and he leaned closer.

"Yes, Killian." Emma put her hand on his biceps. "It was my idea and I'm your best friend. Of course with me."

It was quite logical indeed, but Killian's mind was still busy processing her idea and the fact that she wanted him to come with was next in line.

"What about Mary Margaret and David?"

"Mary Margaret and David know I'm not made for this small town life where nothing happens. I need action, I need to be able to live."

Emma wanted to go with him alone, leaving Mary Margaret and David behind. Even if she wanted them to come along, they couldn't. They needed to keep the town running. Nobody cared about a Granny's waitress and a dock worker, but one of Storybrooke's best teachers and its only sheriff were indispensable. Besides, Killian doubted that Mary Margaret and David would come along, all responsibility aside. They were rooted here and would most likely stay for the rest of their lives. But Killian was more like Emma, ready to bolt when he needed to.

"Should we go, are we coming back?" he asked.

"That's the plan."

Killian distinguished the hesitation in Emma's emerald eyes, in how she fiddled with her hands. It wasn't her plan. If they left, the chance that he'd return to his apartment, to his job, to eat a meal at Granny's or to drink rum sitting at the Rabbit Hole bar was very slim. Storybrooke had become his home but he would leave for her, if that was what she wanted.

"I'm in." The conviction inside of him grew.

"You are?" Emma sounded shocked, like she could never have expected he would agree.

"Aye, let's go on a road trip."

-/-

"I am going to miss you both very much," the petite woman mumbled against Killian's chest.

They stood outside of the loft, preparations done, suitcases packed, with the only thing left to do was to say their goodbyes.

"We will miss you too, Mary Margaret." Killian's arms tightened around her as he reassured her. "But we will keep you updated. I'm sure Emma is planning to call you every day."

The hug stopped and Killian took a step back. Mary Margaret's green irises were clouded by tears. Tears that did not fall but only moistened the ridges of her eyes. Killian felt himself choke up. Who would have thought that someone would be sad and cry because he is leaving for a while? Definitely not his twenty-one-year-old self.

"You better call every day. And I want postcards," she demanded and Killian laughed while eagerly agreeing.

They both turned to David and Emma arriving at the car. One of Emma's only bags was in David's firm grip. Their conversation was in a hushed tone; they were talking so quietly that Killian couldn't decipher what was being said until they got closer.

"David," Emma said sternly. Killian wondered what the subject was for her to sound like that. "You're making this more difficult than it is."

"I know and I'm sorry. I only want you to be safe, alright. So take the money."

The word made Killian frown. His gaze fell on Mary Margaret, who was returning the look with a weird expression of her own, partly apologetic and partly elusive. He noticed a white envelope in Dave's free hand. It must contain the mentioned money, the money David did not want to keep and Emma did not want to accept.

Obviously, some extra money would not be a burden, but it definitely wasn't a necessity. Both he and Emma had worked tirelessly, taking every and any shift they could get their hands on and trying to excel in customer service in order for them to get larger tips. Thirty-three days of that resulted in enough money to make it to the west coast, but neither of them was certain if it would suffice to fund their return trip. They had settled on maybe working on the road to make sure they wouldn't end somewhere in the middle of nowhere with not a dime left to spend.

"No, David, we can't," Emma spoke. "You should keep it and invest it in something."

David grabbed Emma's hand, stuffed the envelope in it and closed it again.

"We are investing it in your trip. Let us."

There was no room for dispute, David was giving them the money and they had to accept.

Her red leather clad shoulders sagged in defeat and Emma nodded, quietly thanking him for their contribution. The white rectangle disappeared in her jacket. David opened his arms and she stepped into them. The gesture that ensued Killian recognized as typically theirs, David's hand cupping the back of Emma's head.

When they were finished, the dark haired team swapped with the blondes, creating a new combination, now a separation between the women and men.

He could see the emotion swarming in David's eyes and his own blue ones definitely mirrored it. Killian stood in front of his oldest friend, his first friend in Storybrooke and even though this was not a final goodbye, it surely felt like it.

"There's no way I can stop you, is there?" David tried, his face shaped in a sulking pout.

Shaking his head no, Killian sighed.

"She's got her heart set on this, mate. And I can't let her go alone."

"Take care of her," he said, as if Killian had any intention of not doing exactly that.

"David, you do realize that Emma and I have been friends longer than you've known each other, right?" His left eyebrow rose.

The tinge of humor did not catch, his friend simply stared back with the same sad expression, making Killian sigh yet another time.

"Aye, I'll take care of her," he agreed.

The men briefly but genuinely hugged each other, not wasting any more words on saying goodbye when the both of them knew it would not be adequate enough, it would not suffice.

Killian glanced over to Emma and Mary Margaret saying their goodbyes. The tears that had threatened to fall prior, had now spilled. The women were both sniffling; this was going to be the first time they had been apart in years.

"I love you, Emma."

They held hands.

"I love you, too." Emma used her free hand to wipe away some of the tears rolling over her face. "Thank you for everything."

Feeling like an intruder in a very personal moment, Killian turned around and walked towards the car. David followed, Emma's duffel bag back in his hand. He threw it in the trunk while Killian checked everything one last time. Full gas tank, check. Charged phone, available. Clothes, present. Money, check. Snacks in case Emma got hungry, within reach. They were good to go.

The right car door opened and Killian looked over. Rubbing under her eyes, Emma got rid of the last drops. Her chest expanded with a big breath and deflated when she huffed it back out, the emotions racing through her causing a subdued shake.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, I knew saying goodbye was going to be difficult. But this is my own decision," she stated. The regret Killian feared or expected to hear was not present. Emma sounded determined, exactly how he knew her. They were really doing this.

Their friends had moved to the side of the car. David kissed Mary Margaret's temple and her arms encircled his middle. Their hands waved synchronously. If this was the image Killian would remember them by for the next couple of months, it would be perfect. Because this was who they were. Kindhearted, together and in love.

Slowly, but surely they drove away. Along the docks. Through Main Street. Past Granny's. Until they reached the sign that signaled the border of town. Crossing the line would make it official. His blue eyes glanced over to Emma and saw her encouraging smile. The corners of his lips curled; he pressed down on the accelerator.

"And so it begins."

-/-

 _Boston, Massachusetts_

He listened to the whirring across the table, to her soft hum. Emma's face was buried in a map, her hands occasionally highlighting a specific spot. Killian was certain that if it was completely unfolded, the paper would occupy a considerable part of the room and would probably be larger than Emma herself. Even though they both owned a phone and the restaurant they were sitting in offered free Wi-Fi, Emma wanted to do things "the old school way" Whatever she meant by that.

"Anything interesting we should visit?" he inquired, breaking her focus on the charts and drawing her green eyes to his.

Her blonde eyebrows soared and a little smirk lifted one side of her mouth.

"There might be," Emma spoke with nonchalance. "You'll have to wait and find out."

Killian lightly shook his head in amusement. He saw what Emma was trying to do, but he wouldn't fall into the trap. Part of his own personal goal of this trip was to become more carefree, more spontaneous and letting her take control was the way to achieve that.

"Then I will," he complied. The red menu on the table was partially covered by Emma's map and he retrieved it, browsing through the restaurant's specials. He could feel her surprised gaze on him. "Oh, sea food. I do love that."

When there was no response on her side, not even a movement as far as Killian could tell, he raised his eyes and was met by her smile.

"You know, I expected you to be way more meticulous about everything."

"Did you now?" Killian wondered, pretending he had no idea she was previously testing him

"Yeah. Your controlling nature can't even handle it when I'm ten minutes late. And now… we don't know where we will stop or where we'll sleep," Emma spoke with a dooming tone

"What can I say?" His shoulders rose in a shrug and he leaned forward, before winking. "Life with you truly is an adventure, Swan."

"Thank you." Emma radiated with the compliment and the smile she wore would stay there the entire meal. "Now, it's time to order some food because I am starving."

"Oh." Emma chewed on her piece of bread. "We're doing the freedom trail. I need to see where we defeated those wretched Brits." She made a sound of disgust.

Not liking what he heard, Killian crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared at Emma.

"Will you pay some respect to my home country, Swan?" Killian demanded indignantly and with an even more prominent accent than he usually had. "I am very patriotic, I'll have you know."

"Sure," she replied unconvinced by his act. "That's why you moved across the ocean, right?"

Killian decided not to respond, none of his options seemed decent. He simply slurped a bit of his soup in silent acknowledgment of her supremacy.

"That's what I thought."

She was a marvel, bloody hell.

Their lunch completely consumed, they sauntered through Boston. Emma's accurate map had been stashed away in her backpack, but nevertheless, she guided, taking a turn here and going left there to arrive at the right place every time without exception. Killian found it difficult to keep up with her sometimes; she walked with the determination and speed of a native Bostonian. As he wondered how that was possible, the memory of her telling him about one of her foster families reappeared. Emma had lived here when she was younger. It explained a great deal.

"Here we are." She came to a halt and pointed. "Boston Public Garden." There was a trace of ruefulness in her eyes.

An empty bench stood on their left and Killian walked towards it with deliberate small steps in order for Emma to catch on with his plan. She followed and sat next to him, the sadness still contorting her expression.

"How long did you stay here?" An open question that she could choose not to answer or to reply with a lie. He wouldn't judge.

"Just under three months." The truth it was. She stared at the tree right in front of them. "Ronald and April Stevenson. A nice couple. They took me here a lot."

Every one of Emma's sentences was disrupted by a sigh, inaudible but Killian saw her shoulders sag with every break she took.

"I was just too ungrateful. Didn't do what they asked. Ran away. I didn't trust them, kept my distance. That's what eventually prompted them to request a transfer for me. At least they tried, so props to them."

Killian opened his mouth to react, to soothe her troubled heart, but she lifted her hand and placed it on his knee. A light squeeze followed.

"It's alright," Emma told him. "If we let this trip be ruined by all of our demons of the past, it would kind of suck, wouldn't it?"

She managed a tiny smile, it resembled a grimace but Killian simply returned it. Emma's nostalgia vanished as soon as it appeared.

"No more demons," she proposed.

"No more demons."

-/-

 _New York City, New York_

Of all the possible cities on their list, New York was circled twice, marking it a must for both Emma and Killian. They arrived in the late afternoon and immediately went in search of a place to stay. None of the hotels they came across were inside their price range (way, way out of it even), so they resorted to online services to find a place to crash. After a lot of scrolling and calling, they eventually found a room for the night.

"We're supposed to be there around eight. What do you want to do in the meantime?"

Emma frowned pensively and pursed her lips. She rubbed over her face, an attempt to make the exhaustion they both felt disappear.

"Definitely nothing too intensive. Or anything that requires paying attention," she added.

Killian agreed, covering his mouth with his hand to smother a rising yawn. Perhaps it wasn't very smart to forego any sleep for some reason. Discovering the Boston night scene was fine, as long as they slept afterwards, which they did not. They should have stopped somewhere along the way to nap instead of sightseeing with liters of coffee in Connecticut. Because not doing that now resulted in two very tired and ready to doze off people. They were simply so enthusiastic to reach New York that they momentarily forgot about their basic human needs. Or the fact that twenty-five was young but not that young.

"I've finished all of the books I've brought," Emma started tentatively. "Maybe we could find a bookstore and buy some new ones?"

Instead of answering, Killian stretched out his arm and locked it with Emma's. That way they could casually meander along the streets while supporting each other and preventing one another from collapsing on the concrete.

"You know that rule we had?" she asked, after accepting his arm.

"Aye, I remember," he said quietly. "On a quest to find a bookstore we go."

After about twenty minutes of walking with a very slow place, they came to stand before a small shop. The sun had started to set and the streets had darkened, but there was a warm light coming from inside. The glass of the window was adorned with bright, blue letters that spelled Belle's Books and behind it, in the display, a wide array of books was scattered. At first sight, it resembled one large, uncontrolled chaos, but as they approached the glass, they saw the preciseness with which every book was positioned.

"This looks cute. Very Beauty and the Beast." Emma smiled while reading the shop's name and motioned towards the door. "Let's go inside."

A quaint, little bell rang when they entered. As cute and cozy it looked from the outside, it was on the inside. Soft music played in the background; there was a lavender fragrance lingering in the air and comfy chairs were set in the back.

They scanned the room in pursuit of someone, another customer or the owner perhaps, but noticed they were alone. Until a door opened and a brown-haired woman dressed in purple dress appeared from behind it.

Her face lit up with their presence. "Hello," she greeted them excitedly. "Welcome to Belle's Books. I'm Belle. How can I help you?"

"Your name is actually Belle?" Emma asked, a pleasant surprise in her voice.

Her comment made a rich laugh bubble out of Belle. "It is," she answered in an accent Killian assumed was Australian. "But I was born before the Disney film was made, so it really is a coincidence."

"We'll take your word for it," Killian said while winking at her.

"I hope you weren't just closing." Emma was clearly afraid that they were intruding.

"No no." Belle shook her head. "You are very welcome."

The bunch of keys chiming in her hands did suggest otherwise, but if Belle was alright with them staying a bit past opening hours, who were they to refuse?

"Could I take a look around?" Emma asked. "I'm looking for some books, but I have no idea what kind of book."

"Sure! If you need any advice, I'm here to help."

Killian let Emma venture further into the store while he waited, seeing that she was the one who needed some new reading matter and he knew how thorough she was while choosing her next victim. He kept Belle, or Belle kept him, company and while she circled the desk to the other side of the register, he stayed in front of it.

"Can I ask you something?" Belle waited for him to agree and when he did, she continued. "What made you come here? Most people just go to Barnes and Noble."

Killian briefly chuckled before he thought of the best way to explain to Belle why exactly they searched until they found her bookshop, even though they were tired and had, as a matter of fact, come across a Barnes and Noble, but determinedly walked past it.

"Emma and I are on a road trip across the country and I suppose we wanted to make it…" Killian thought for a second to find the right word. "...authentic. We're avoiding multinationals and chain stores as much as we can. Otherwise, it wouldn't really matter in what city we are, would it?"

Belle appeared impressed.

"That's a great mentality," she complimented. "Although, good luck finding a place to eat in this neighborhood."

The tiredness swirling around him had vanished slightly, he had reacquired some of his energy, but the thought of needing to actively search for a meal, drained that small reserve. Killian felt the reluctance inside of him grow and he was starting to regret their rule.

"Is it that difficult?"

"If you're passing through, yes, but luckily I know a few good spots I can lead you to," Belle said with a kind expression, eliciting a relieved sigh.

"Thank you, Belle," said he gratefully.

"It's my pleasure…" Belle hesitated, her brows drawn together. Killian realized she didn't know his name.

"Killian." He extended his hand and she took it, lightly shaking it.

Emma returned, a pile of books stacked between her hands, one hand served as foundation, the other as roof.

"Swan, good news." He turned to her. "Belle is kind enough to show us an anti-capitalist place to eat."

"Wow, we sound like hippies," Emma noticed and laughed. "But great. I've picked out some books but I'd like to limit myself and only buy three."

She set the tower on the counter and Belle stepped closer.

"Let me see." She tilted her head to read the titles and her braid fell off her shoulder. "Definitely Pride and Prejudice, that's a classic." Her finger ran along the spines. "I personally really enjoyed Norwegian Wood, I'm a big Murakami fan."

"I was thinking about buying Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone too," Emma mentioned. "I left my copy at home and I honestly miss it."

Belle picked up said novel out of the bunch and turned it around.

"This is a pretty edition and it is a great book, of course." Belle looked at Killian for confirmation and to possibly include him in the conversation.

"I-I wouldn't know," he silently stammered.

In one brusque movement, Emma turned to him, the confusion written on her face.

"Wait, what?"

"I have never read Harry Potter." was murmured by him.

Killian was quite sure that he heard an actual gasp coming from Belle. There was no place to hide. He was a pagan, a nonbeliever. Killian Jones had never read Harry Potter and had no intentions to do so. And Killian Jones was also currently being overwhelmed by fanatics.

"You've never read Harry Potter? How are we best friends?" Emma's question was laced with disbelief. "I'm sure I've made you read it before."

"But I never actually did, Swan," he confessed shamefully with his head held low.

"Oh, I've heard enough. I'm buying this." Emma picked her three books and handed them over to Belle, who skillfully typed them in and registered Emma's purchase. The books disappeared into a bag and were traded for money.

The bills went into their designated place and she completely locked the register.

Belle's movements made her keys rattle again.

"Let me just close the shop and I'll be out in a sec," she said to Emma and him.

"Can we help with anything?"

"That's not necessary. This doesn't take very long."

True to her statement, it didn't take Belle long to lock up and to walk out, accompanying Killian and Emma who were quietly chatting in the cool evening air. She lead and they followed while they listened to her talk about how the place she was taking them was owned by friends of her. That there was an amazing atmosphere and that the great food was a bonus.

Killian felt mesmerized by the city and how it was transformed by darkness. The corporate people dressed in black, tailored outfits went home and were replaced by men and women wearing shorts and summer dresses, vividly chatting and laughing as they made their way to their destination. Everything became more relaxed.

"Here we are."

Immersed in thought, his eyes directed upwards, it took Killian slightly too long before he came to realize they had stopped. His body nearly collided with Emma. She noticed his stumble and made fun of him.

The swirly letters of the restaurant's sign shone a red glow. It was called Aurora.

"Enjoy your meal!" Belle said and she began to walk away.

Emma's eyes sought out his, uncomfortable with the shopkeeper walking home alone while she had been the epitome of sweet to them. They needed to thank her for her help.

"Hold on, Belle," Killian yelled across the street. Her chestnut hair swished and she looked back curiously. "Would you like to join us?"

She shifted her weight from one foot to another and fidgeted with her hands. Even on the other side of the street and in the dark, Killian could see the conflict on her face.

"I wouldn't want to intrude."

"You wouldn't," Emma assured her before Killian could. "We are inviting you."

Belle stared at them for a moment, not moving, but then her head started moving and her hands let go of each other, her nod became more confident and she crossed the street.

"Okay," is what she said when she was reunited with Emma and him.

They all went inside and Killian immediately witnessed the atmosphere Belle mentioned. A woman with hair fluctuating somewhere between brown and red approached them. First, she wiped her hands on her pink apron.

"Hi, Belle!"

"Hey Aurora," Belle replied.

"Who are your friends?" The woman angled her body so she could see them a bit better.

"This is Emma and this is Killian," they were introduced. It appeared that Aurora was unsatisfied with Belle's incomplete explanation as she urged her to continue by signaling with her pink polished hands. "They came into the bookshop and we started talking. They're on a road trip."

"You are?" Aurora looked at them for confirmation and Emma and Killian nodded simultaneously. "Cool!" she reacted. "I once backpacked through China and Nepal and that was amazing as well."

Killian's eyebrows ascended. Aurora mentioned it as if it was an ordinary thing.

"Really? That makes our trip look boring."

One of her shrugs minimized the extraordinary character of their destination. "Mulan, my girlfriend," she clarified. "was born in China and adopted and she really wanted to go there and discover the culture."

"Are you talking about me behind my back?" a new voice interfered.

Her oriental looks and possessive hand on Aurora's back would suggest that this was indeed Mulan, Aurora's girlfriend.

"Oh hey, honey." They kissed. "I was just telling Emma and Killian about our journey in China."

Aurora spoke like they all knew each other, like they did things like going to dinner together and buying each other gifts when the holidays came around, sharing personal stories. It was clear, however, that Mulan did not share that mentality. She had a disadvantage coming a few minutes later and missing the introduction Belle gave them. Mulan did not know anything about the two people standing next to her girlfriend. To her, Emma and Killian were unfamiliar people, which they actually should have been to all three women.

"I'm Emma," Emma waved while trying to help Mulan connect some of the detached dots.

"Killian," he added.

"I'm Mulan. Welcome to Aurora's." It sounded a bit distant and wary and the quick smile she gave them only confirmed Killian's hunch. "Have you given them a table yet, babe?"

"No, we were so busy talking," she admitted.

"Good thing I love you," Mulan sighed.

Her attitude changed as she addressed her girlfriend, there was a glimpse of warmth and affection. Either way, Aurora, as well as Belle, seemed like the kind of person you couldn't help to let down your guard with. Someone who helped you soften and cared for you. Much like Mary Margaret would. She had with both Emma and him. He missed her.

"A very good thing indeed," Aurora chippered.

She was mobilized, remembering her duties. Her hand beckoned them to follow and Belle, Emma, and Killian did. They were lead to a table for four next to the window. Belle sat down on one side, Emma and he went to sit on the bench across her.

"What can we get you?"

They got their food and it was absolutely delicious. Emma tried to steal some of his Eggplant lasagna but he refused, stopping her fork from removing a bite. Eventually, Killian did concede because he couldn't survive the attack of her pout and big eyes. He received a spoon of her Chili Con Carne as a token of her gratitude.

Killian's plate was completely empty and the only thing stopping him from ordering another was the thought that he would seem greedy and voracious. After a lot of contemplation, he decided to stick with one portion. Killian mentioned his fulfillment to Mulan, who was clearing his plate, and the woman's kind of tensed facade completely broke and made way for a brilliant smile. She thanked him and Killian grinned back.

"Shit!" Emma exclaimed out of nowhere, startling Killian to point of nearly spitting out his drink. He quickly swallowed and coughed twice to recover.

Emma's worry was split between him and the screen of her phone, her eyes commuting between the two spots. Still catching his breath, he raised his eyebrow to ask what was wrong.

"The dude that was going to rent us his room just totally bailed on us," she explained and Killian deemed it an adequate reason to suddenly swear. Emma choice of profanity was mediocre in you took into account the situation and Emma's tendency to swear like a drunk sailor. "Fuck," Emma cursed again, the word one of her favorites among the list. "We don't have a place to sleep now."

His fingers combed through his dark hair as he pondered. They could seek a room online anew but chances that they would find something and that it would not be overpriced were minuscule. The only real option they had was the car. It would be uncomfortable and cramped, but it was better than nothing.

"The car?"

"The place where we parked seemed alright to stay overnight."

Belle had been silent for a while, biting her lip and watching while Emma and he discussed their problem and the feasibility of spending a night in the car.

"I have a spare mattress in my apartment," she intervened hesitantly.

"You do?" Killian asked, not wanting to assume anything.

"It's only one mattress and you'd have to sleep in my living room but it's better than a car." The brunette moved and sat a bit closer to them, surer of her offer.

"Belle, thank you so much," he expressed gratitude. She was offering her apartment, her home to accommodate virtual strangers and it was an incredibly altruistic thing to do. "We'll pay you."

"That won't be necessary." Holding up her hand, she shook her head. "If you could make me breakfast, however, I would not complain."

She threw a wink at them, making them all laugh. Emma leaned over the table, closer to Belle and hid her mouth from Killian with her curved hand.

"Killian is a great cook," she said with a faux whisper. "so you are in for a treat."

Emma deliberately said it loud enough for him to hear, watching his reaction and smirking as the heat rushed to his cheeks and the tips of his ears. It sometimes resembled that some of his own mannerisms were so ingrained in his being that Killian could not control them. Like when he scratched his head; he didn't want to because he knew it would only make Emma's smile wider, and still, his hand was lifted and dove into his hair. Her smile did become bigger, but she also slid a bit closer, poking him playfully.

The restaurant wasn't very populated to begin with and it didn't take long for the other guests to filter out. They stayed, however, engulfed in conversation, occasionally laughing loudly and occasionally sipping the steaming cups of coffee Aurora had brought them.

Killian worried that their presence was a burden to the couple, who perhaps wanted to clean and close the restaurant after a tiring day, and voiced his concern, only to receive an offended reaction from Mulan. Of course they did not bother. The contrast between Mulan at their arrival and Mulan now was enormous; she had really taken a liken to them.

Aurora bid the last leaving guests goodbye and grabbed a chair from an adjacent table, bringing it over to theirs and seating herself on it. Mulan followed her example a minute or so later. They traded travel stories; Belle vividly talked about her youth in Australia, Mulan and Aurora told about their aforementioned travels in Asia, and Emma and Killian explained the reasons why they undertook their journey. In response, they got a lot of understanding nods and hums, telling them that their newly made friends would have done the same, or at least would have considered doing the same.

The chat quieted and Killian played around with his empty cup, the turning making a light sound. Emma was busy with her phone and suddenly looked at him, a light in her eyes. She announced that it was time for a selfie.

"I apologize," Killian said to their new friends. "She does this. I've tried to make her stop taking them, but all attempts have been in vain." He shrugged, trying his very best to not lose the control of his face.

"Shut up!" Emma replied with bewilderment, her mouth open and her eyes wide.

"It is a grave condition," Killian persisted, making Aurora and Belle giggle and Mulan snicker. She really wasn't the type to giggle. "I have tried to find help for her but nothing has worked."

"Killian Jones." An accusing finger pointed at him while her face glowed. "Don't pretend like you don't like them. Because you do, I know."

"Payback Emma Swan," he teased. "They are fun," was his belated confession.

"Aha!"

So they took one, with big smiles and twinkling eyes. A perfect representation and souvenir of the evening. Emma exchanged numbers and email addresses and there was a cacophonous ring of everyone's ringtones intermixed.

"If it's alright with the both of you, I'd like to go home now." Belle's almost earned her a hooray from Killian. He had enjoyed this evening very much and had loved getting to know the three ladies, but, despite the caffeine boost, Killian's eyelids kept on slowly closing, his mouth kept opening because of yawns; there was about a 30 percent chance that he would fall asleep right there and then.

They stood. Killian took his coffee cup and Emma's too, trailing Mulan into the restaurant's kitchen.

"You can put them in the sink." Mulan motioned. "Cleaning them is a task I'll happily postpone."

He followed her orders and gently set the ceramics on the stainless steel.

"We're really lucky, aren't we?"

Killian looked up, creasing his eyebrows. Mulan tilted her head towards the eating room, towards Aurora giggling because of something Emma said.

Yes, he was lucky. Incredibly, unbelievably lucky to have someone like her. But he couldn't tell Mulan that, because he knew what she actually meant. They were lucky to have them as partner in crime, as best friend, as lover and even though those two first ones did apply on Emma and him, that last one certainly did not.

"Emma and I are not a couple."

"You're not a couple?" Mulan repeated, the perplexity repeating his sentence and turning it into a question.

Killian's head moved from left to right. The automatism returned; he scratched the back of his head. His mouth opened several times to say something but nothing came out. Which made the whole situation even more uncomfortable.

"You should be," she shared her opinion. "Sorry to put it this bluntly but you basically are already."

"We- We're just best friends." he attempted to refute.

"Killian, I know we have only met a couple of hours ago but I also see how you look at her. I would expect that I look the same when I look at Aurora."

How she looked at Aurora. Completely captivated by someone she meant. A profound breath escaped as Killian thought about her statement. Mulan simply kept looking at him, her gaze empathic and understanding.

"Killian!" Emma's yell interrupted them. "Belle really wants to go and it's her apartment. Plus, we still need to go get the car, so hurry!"

A light push from Mulan's hand guided him back to her. He could partially manage to smile and apologize when he reached the others again, but it lacked his usual flair. If anyone asked, he would blame the tiredness. That wasn't a complete lie.

-/-

All of the light switches were turned on, illuminating Belle's flat. It was small, but what else could you expect when Belle was a single, self-employed entrepreneur in New York. She requested Killian's help to move the mattress, their bed for the night, to the ground and he grabbed the other side of it. It thudded on the floor and Belle went in search of some sheets. Emma stretched, softly growling as she did. Killian stared at his feet, at his feet and at the floor and only looked back up when their host returned.

"The bathroom is right there." The fresh set of linen was dropped on the mattress and Belle pointed at a closed door behind them. "Feel free to brush your teeth, take a shower. I'm going to bed. Good night!"

"Good night!"

Shutting her bedroom door, Belle disappeared and Emma looked over her shoulder to make sure she had left the room.

"We are so lucky Belle is letting us stay here for free," she said in a hushed tone.

"We are."

"Especially after spending that much money today. We are going to have to watch out because if we continue like this we probably won't even make it to California," Emma expressed her concern.

"I know." Another two-word sentence served as reply.

His own curtness made him cringe, but he felt worn out. He definitely wasn't doing a very good job of hiding it from Emma. He couldn't pretend anymore, however, he couldn't put up an act for her. Not now, not after today. Tomorrow, the mask would go back on but in this moment it was impossible.

"Killian. Is everything alright?" Worry was the sole thing he could hear in her voice. Worry for him.

"Aye." He shook his head, lifting the corners of his mouth. "A bit tired, that's all. I think I'm going to take a shower," he announced. "I'm quite positive I reek."

"When's the last time you showered?"

"Day two in Boston?" He had to admit he couldn't remember, which meant that showering wasn't only necessary to escape for a moment, to calm down and to have an intrapersonal moment, it was necessary for his personal hygiene as well.

"Okay, go shower," Emma commanded severely but her tough act was ruined by her giggle. "Now, Jones," she ushered when he didn't immediately move. "Or you're sleeping on the actual floor.

The bathroom was tiny as well, but decorated with cute blue details. Blue towels, a blue soap bar, a blue shower curtain. Killian immediately hopped in the shower, letting the warm water wash away the emotions and exhaustion. It worked to some extent and he was hoping actual sleep would take care of the rest. He stared at his image in the mirror for a bit, taking in the blue ridges under his eyes and the line on his forehead that appeared to have become more prominent in the last twelve hours. He huffed out a last breath, gathering his courage and returned to the living room.

In contrary to what he anticipated, Emma was not awake anymore, but lay curled up on the mattress. A light snoring escaped her mouth and her glasses were still propped on her nose. Her hand was covering the open and new copy of Harry Potter on her chest. Killian tiptoed closer and gently laid the book aside, putting a clip between the pages Emma fell asleep during. He took off her glasses and Emma lightly stirred.

The feeling he was experiencing was ineffable. No, that was not true; there were words. It was halcyon. It was limerence and infatuation and every other beautiful word that was not fit to be used to describe something mundane but somehow seemed fit to use as he thought of her. Every other word that made Emma roll her eyes when he uttered it. Killian supposed he could use an easier word to describe it: love

But Emma was his best friend, he was her confidante, there was trust between them, she had asked him, not someone else, on this trip. And he had to ruin it all by falling in love with her. Or being, because the actual falling happened eons ago.

His hands unfold the blanket Belle had given and draped it over the bed, covering her while crawling under it too.

"God, I am so in love with you," he whispered with his back to Emma.

The words were unmistakably meant for her but she was asleep and saying them to her when she was not able to respond would be agonizing; instead, he told his secret to the night, the darkness, for it to absorb it in its black hole. He repeated them and repeated them, like some sort of lullaby, and every time he did, it became bearable, more tolerable. Killian had to admit, the night was a good listener.

 **Part two will be posted somewhere in early January and will feature Emma's perspective. Ooooh...**


	2. Chapter 2

Some cared, but only a few people never failed to offer encouragement, to give love and support. And then there was one lucky bastard who managed to change every aspect of Emma Swan's life, every part of the routine she had built over the years, and he got away with it. That lucky bastard in her life bore the name of Killian Jones. And Emma had no idea what she did to deserve him.

* * *

 _Rutledge, Georgia_

They had chosen Emma's car for their road trip, not only because the yellow and quirky character mirrored their free spirits perfectly, but also because Emma couldn't just leave her behind. They had gone through so much together and it felt wrong to not include her first and only car in such a pivotal time of her life. The Bug was a tough one, but she was of a certain age as well and things tended to unexpectedly go wrong with her.

"Killian, wake up!" Emma shouted to the back couch where Killian lay asleep.

The shock that had vibrated through the car had not had any effect or impact on him, so she had no other choice than yell. Slowly returning from the land of slumber, Killian blinked, clearly not understanding why Emma had forced him to wake up. He sat a bit straighter while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Huh?" he said, or murmured, asking her what was happening or what had happened with that single sound.

"We ran out of gas."

Though the Bug had its flaws, she couldn't be blamed for breaking down. This was Emma's fault. _She_ should've checked the fuel meter more often and _she_ shouldn't have missed their original exit, prolonging the travel time and _she_ shouldn't have let the music bring her into some sort of a driving trance.

Killian's dark hair was a mess and his eyes still looked sleepy as he leaned over the seat separating them and peered at the red blinking light.

"Where are we?" he slightly rumbled, before clearing his throat.

"Somewhere in Georgia, I think an hour from Atlanta."

The road they were driving on was tiny and looked quite deserted. There was long grass adorning both sides of the road and trees stood alternately with tall lampposts. Emma had driven past their original exit and the fastest way to reach Atlanta was to follow this road. Downside of her impromptu change was that the close vicinity was completely void of gas stations.

To keep herself from frantically fidgeting, Emma ran her hands through her hair, her breathing rushed and distressed. This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all.

A warm hand squeezed her shoulder. "Calm down, Swan. I'm sure we'll find a way to fix it."

Pulling the handle, Emma got out of the car and reclined the car seat so that Killian was freed from the back. As elegantly as he could, he crawled out and firmly planted his two feet on the concrete of the hard shoulder.

After both of them obediently followed the safety rules, putting the orange triangle in front of their car and wearing the abhorrent fluorescent jackets, Emma and Killian sat on the Bug's hood, peering around for anyone, a car, bus or even a motorcycle. Anyone who could help.

Emma rested her head against his shoulder.

"Swan, don't feel guilty," he said to her.

"I never said I did."

Killian's dark eyebrow arched a bit as he gave her that look. The look that told her he knew her like no one else. The look that reminded her why they were best friends.

The moment Killian had suddenly appeared in her life had been the perfect one. She needed someone. Mary Margaret was great and amazing and every other positive adjective Emma could think of, but she was also vastly different from her. In a way, their opposed personalities were what made their bond so strong but Emma yearned for someone who understood. Completely, without needing an explanation or a heartfelt conversation. When she looked back at that time now, she realized she simply needed Killian.

"It could've happened to me as well."

Emma grunted in reluctance. He was actually going to make her pretend that this wasn't all her own dumb fault.

"Uhuh," she said, but nor her face, nor the way she said it resembled anything remotely close to agreement.

Killian chuckled. The sound was domestic, it made her relive a compilation of moments back in Storybrooke, back in her apartment, moments with loud laughter and friendship. Disregarding the homesickness that was burrowed somewhere inside of her, it made Emma feel good.

He had been in a mood recently, quiet and distant in a way. It started somewhere in New York but she couldn't put her finger on what caused it. He was more distant and brusque, far from the Killian she knew. Emma had wished he would just talk. They had reached a consensus; no more demons. So why did Killian keep the thing that was bothering him a secret?

"There's a car coming."

Emma slid off the car, steadying her weight back on the ground. His hands pushing himself off of the hood, Killian followed the movement.

"Maybe I should be the one asking for help," Emma suggested, "If it's a male driver, chances of him stopping would increase considerably."

Killian contorted his face in disgust but Emma saw the agreement creep upon his expression. He had to admit that she was right, even though if the reasons for it were completely wrong and disgusting.

"Go ahead, Swan," he sighed with reluctance as he went back to sit on the yellow Bug.

Raising her hand, Emma waved at the incoming car, fervently hoping that the driver would stop and not race by in a flash, ignoring their existence completely. At first, it seemed like that was exactly going to happen and she was about to turn back around and rejoin Killian, but suddenly the blue car slowed down and halted by theirs. Emma nearly cheered in excitement.

She approached the car and the light blonde woman sitting at the wheel. The window lowered with a zooming sound and Emma bent to address her.

"Hi," she started, "Thank you for stopping. We ran out of gas and now we're stuck here. Would you mind helping us?"

"Oh, of course not." The woman's nose and forehead creased as she thought. The crinkle smoothed and she spoke. "There's a gas station about 6 miles from her. If you want, I could drive you there and back."

"That would be great!" Emma turned her head away from the window and spoke to Killian. "Killian! Killian, she's going to help us." Their savior peered through her other window, trying to see the person Emma was addressing.

"That's my best friend Killian," Emma aided. "I'm Emma, by the way." She extended her hand and the pale woman shook it.

"Elsa," she introduced herself.

"Could we both come with?" Emma asked her question hesitantly.

"There's enough room in the back, so sure," Elsa agreed.

Emma called Killian and motioned for him to come. He closed the door and locked the Bug before walking over. Emma seated herself next to the driver's seat and Killian dove into the back. The radio softly buzzed, playing a Mumford & Sons song that Elsa lightly hummed to. The silence wasn't uncomfortable; Elsa's tendency not to pry in their business by asking where they were going or anything remotely personal felt familiar to Emma. Of course, Killian, the curious guy that he was, did do exactly that.

"So Elsa, what were you doing on the road before picking two very distressed people up?" He propped his head between the two chairs. Elsa briefly turned her head towards him before letting her eyes return to the road.

"My sister lives in Savannah with her husband and son and I went to visit," she answered.

It perplexed Emma that Elsa immediately opened up by telling something, that she replied to the question without any aversion. The woman seemed a bit distant, wary of strangers as Emma always called it when describing herself.

During their first encounter, Emma had told Killian the same thing when he had wondered why she wouldn't talk to him. He'd laughed, actually laughed in response and told her his name while bowing, actually bowing. The idiot.

"Must be hard to live that far," Killian sympathized.

"It's alright," Elsa said. "I can still drive to her and we see each other every two weeks. I'm the one who moved for a job, so..."

"Oh, what do you do?" Emma asked, joining the conversation. Her interest was sparked.

Elsa's lips perked up for a second.

"I'm the CEO of an ice cube factory."

It was strange to meet someone who was around their age and actually had their life in order. Not just in order, but who had an important and impressive job. Working at Granny's or in a shipping/touring company seemed so bleak in comparison.

"That is one unusual job. Tell me, Elsa, how does one become CEO of an ice cube factory at such a young age?" Killian asked with amusement.

"I worked my way up." Elsa belittled as if her achievements were not impressive at all. "I started in the factory itself, then supervisor, manager and now CEO."

"Wow," Emma reacted. "I don't think I could ever work in an ice factory. I'd be cold 24/7."

"You really would be," Killian agreed with a chuckle.

She couldn't handle cold very well. As soon as the temperatures dropped below fifty-five degrees, she reverted to thick, wooly sweaters. She still couldn't understand how Killian did it. He wore open shirts in the middle of a Storybrooke winter, while she was dressed in four layers of clothing. And Storybrooke winters were like really snowy with lots of wind, basically twice as harsh as other winters. Those were very accurate observations Emma had calculated starting from very scientific proof.

"It's never bothered me." Elsa shrugged and Killian agreed with her, leaving Emma as the odd, only sane one may she add, one out.

They continued to chitchat until they reached the gas station Elsa told them about. It wasn't very big but that didn't matter, the only thing that mattered was that they had gasoline to revive her beloved bug. Killian left the car to take care of the purchase, leaving Emma and Elsa inside.

"So, what were _you_ doing on that road?" Elsa inquired.

"Killian and I are on a road trip together. A quest to find ourselves, you could call it."

Emma expected Elsa to laugh, to find their goal stupid and immature, but the woman didn't. For the third time in a couple of weeks, Emma was met with understanding again.

"I know the feeling," Elsa responded. "I had the same problem, didn't really know who I was either, so I left my hometown too. Traveled around for a bit, discovered the things I liked and the things I didn't. Eventually, I just stuck in Atlanta."

The corners of Emma's lips curled as she listened to Elsa. She understood. She really understood and that feeling made her feel better. She had always wondered if she wasn't being selfish, if she hadn't just exaggerated when she wanted to do this.

"That's exactly why I am doing it," Emma said.

"What about Killian?"

"I think he's just here to support me, but I'm so happy I have him," she admitted with a broad smile. "I don't think I could've done it with anyone else."

"He seems great."

"He really is," she agreed, nodding her head. Out of the corner of her eye, Emma saw Killian approaching and reaching to open the door. "Sometimes a bit overconfident, but overall he's tolerable."

"Swan, I heard that," Killian intervened, his tone indignant. "If anyone has to tolerate someone, it's me and your terrible eating habits."

"Oh shush. Did you get the gas?"

Killian lifted the red jug next to his face and posed next to it, his teeth exposed, making Emma roll her eyes.

"You're welcome, Swan." Killian set the jug next to him and reached for the seat belt behind him. "I say we return to the fair maiden in need of gasoline."

"Like I said," Emma faux-whispered to Elsa, "Tolerable."

Elsa laughed openly for the first time, tilting her head back and causing her braid to fall off her shoulder. She ignited the car's engine and drove back onto the road.

"Thank you, Elsa. For the drive," Emma specified.

Killian had assured her that he could handle filling up the tank by himself and getting the car to live again while she stayed inside of Elsa's car.

"Don't mention it. Have you eaten anything recently?"

"No." Emma shook her head. "Our plan was to eat in Atlanta, but, as you can see, that didn't really happen, nor did we actually get there."

"It's only about a forty-five-minute drive between here and Atlanta," Elsa calculated and turned to Emma with a faint trace of a spark in her expression. Emma's lips curled as she tilted in curiosity. "I'm quite hungry as well, so if you'd like, we could eat together. My treat," she added a bit later.

How come every person they encounter is so incredibly kind and generous towards them? They all want to help and spend time together and share stories. Elsa was a lot like Emma and Emma sensed a certain connection, like a bond between sisters. Clearly, she did not want to part from someone she felt such kinship with, but they couldn't take advantage of her in such a way.

"We can't possibly."

"I'm a CEO of an ice cube factory," Elsa reminded her. "You know how much that pays? A lot," she emphasized when Emma did not attempt to guess.

"If you insist," she began, "I suppose we can't refuse."

"No." Elsa smiled. "You cannot."

"I'll inform Killian."

-/-

 _Austin, Texas_

The temperatures were extremely high. At first, it was fun; they rolled the windows down, put their sunglasses on and let the wind play with their hair. But after a while, the lack of proper air conditioning started taking its toll. The two large water containers they had in the car were empty after only twenty minutes of driving. Beads of sweat formed on their foreheads and slowly made their way down.

They took a break at a highway stop. Killian locked the car and walked around, stretching his legs. After nearly downing her entire supply of water, Emma really needed to use the restroom.

"I'll be back in a sec."

She hastily made her way to the toilets, that seemed very unhygienic but Emma couldn't seem to make herself care. The blinking fluorescent lights illuminated Emma's face as she scrutinized it in the mirror.

Her face no longer bore the pale skin color she thought so characteristic of herself. Somehow her freckles stood out even more against the slightly darker tone. Whereas the sun had tanned her skin, it had also lightened her hair.

With a creaking sound, the tap opened, letting out a cascade of clear water. Emma's hands captured some of it and splashed it over her face, cooling off and cleaning at the same time. She shook the drops on her hands off and returned outside. Killian sat on a picnic bench, a buffet of the shop's snacks on display.

"Take your pick." He beamed proudly.

"What a feast," Emma complimented. "What does the chef recommend?"

"The chef would suggest the ham and cheese sandwich-" Killian pushed the plastic box to her side. "-with a side dish of crisps- sorry chips," he corrected himself, "and as a dessert chocolate covered Oreos."

"Wow." Emma raised her eyebrows. "You've got a whole menu planned out, I'm impressed."

Both Killian and Emma commenced their feast, opening the crackling wrappers and munching on the temporary stomach fillers. Mary Margaret would definitely not approve; too many fast sugars, too much salt, too little vegetables. That reminds her.

"I think I'm going to call Mary Margaret. It's been a while," Emma said once they're done eating.

"It has," Killian agreed," Go for it."

Lifting her legs, Emma turned on the bench, the wood chafing her bare legs. She dialed the number as her sandaled feet walked on the dusty ground.

"Hi, Mary Margaret!" she said when the ringing abruptly ended.

"Hey, Emma," Mary Margaret greeted her as excitedly. "I miss you guys so much."

"We miss you too. A lot," Emma emphasized.

It had been over a month since they had crossed the town border and parted with their friends and the absence did sting.

"How are you?" her friend asked.

"Great," she answered. "It's amazing. We are seeing so many things and meeting so many incredible people." A smile lit up her face. "This is definitely worth it.

"That's good. Where are you now?" Mary Margaret inquired.

"We are in Texas and we're nearly in Austin. Did you get our postcards?"

Like Killian had promised to Mary Margaret, the two of them bought and sent a postcard in every big city they halted. Each one had a short story or description on it, telling the couple about their adventures on the road. It was difficult sometimes; it was a one-way form of communication, there was no instant reaction or feedback and when the cards eventually did arrive, they had long left the place depicted in the picture, crossing another state border. David and Mary Margaret couldn't send anything back to them as they were not anchored to one place or address.

"I did. The last one I got was the one you sent from Jacksonville. All of your cards now hang proudly on our fridge. But I think we're going to run out of space at some point." She laughed.

"Awesome," Emma chuckled. Her fingers played with her hair, tucking it behind her ear and releasing it. "You can expect one from New Orleans in a couple of days, I think. How's David?"

A soft sigh crossed the line. "It's been hard for him. He misses you and definitely Killian, more than he cares to admit," Mary Margaret said sadly.

"Tell him that I had to do this." A pause. "And that I love him. And give him a hug."

"I will," she promised. "I have to go now. Call me soon, sweetie, and say hello to Killian."

Emma said goodbye and hung up the call. With a bittersweet feeling locked in her chest and throat, she maundered back to Killian, who had an expectant look in his eyes and an arched brow.

"And?"

"Mary Margaret says hi and they're doing well." Her teeth created a dent in her lower lip. "Although you might want to call David because apparently he isn't really coping well."

"I'll call him right away," Killian said with a worried expression, hands immediately going to his pocket to grab his phone.

"Maybe you should wait until we're in Austin-" Raising her hand, Emma stopped him and tried to slow him down. "-because it's going to be a bit suspicious that you call right after I've finished a talk with his wife."

"True. I'll call him tonight. Back on the road?"

"Back on the road."

-/-

 _Albuquerque, New Mexico_

Traveling was amazing but it was taking its toll on Emma. She was getting tired of constantly sitting in the car, arriving in new places and having to orient herself over and over again. She was missing Mary Margaret and David and her other friends. Killian was being perfect and he tried to make her feel better but it simply wouldn't take.

"Emma, you want to do a sing-along?" he proposed, a small smirk on his lips while the radio blasted some nineties classic.

"Nope," Emma responded, staring out of the window. "I'm in a bad mood."

It always helped to put that out there, to not mask her current state; this way no misunderstandings could appear. She was in a bad mood and his attempts to uplift her wouldn't work. Killian understood and left her alone, usually.

He tore his gaze off the road and tilted his head to her. Emma determinedly avoided his eyes, knowing that he'd try to read her and ask what was wrong and how was she supposed to answer that when she didn't even know herself.

The car braked near a little forest and Killian extinguished the engine and consequently killing the last sound that was left. The silence lingered, acidifying the atmosphere and creating an awkward tension.

"Remember how we met?" he asked, preventing the situation to spiral out of control.

A sigh left Emma's lips.

"Yeah."

"It was on the beach and-" Killian chuckled, "-you were singing an atrocious song at the top of your lungs and completely froze when you saw me, minding my own business."

"I know, Killian."

Normally, he was quite observant. He always bragged about how he could read her like an open book but Killian was so immersed in the memory now, that he did not notice her irritation. Or that she didn't feel like reminiscing right at this moment.

"You started yelling about how I was spying on you and that I should've said something instead of letting you embarrass yourself," he continued talking.

"Killian." Her voice was court. "Stop. I know how we met, alright? I was there too."

It was one of her favorite memories but it wasn't going to help with her annoyance of just about everything.

"Emma," Killian retorted. "Just let me finish." His eyebrows rose with his request. Emma let out another breath. "I was taking an honest walk on the beach and out of nowhere, I get accused of all sorts of bad form. You were a marvel, Swan. You still are. I knew that there was no way I wouldn't fall in love with you. And I was right because here I am. I love you."

It felt as if someone had just knocked all of her breath out of her. As if someone had pushed her into deep, freezing water, paralyzing her entire body and mind.

"What?" she managed to ask him.

"I'm in love with you."

So she hadn't misinterpreted his previous statement, okay. Well no, not okay. Her best friend was in love with her. That was a lot of information to process. Her best friend that she was making a road trip with. Why would he tell her this now? He could have chosen a lot of better moments. Like before they left on a road trip that forced them to spend time with each other for months.

"And you tell me this now?" Her face was writhing, the anger slowly rising inside of her and overwhelming any other sentiment and emotion. "While we're stuck with each other in a confined space for a couple of months?" Her sentence started as a normal one but the end was yelled towards him. Killian looked taken aback, what was he expecting? Did he think she would just jump in his arms and kiss him and tell him I love you too? Because that was not about to happen.

Before Killian could say something, question any of her reactions, Emma opened her door and walked away with a determined strut.

"Emma," he yelled. "Where are you going?"

She continued to fast walk, keeping her eyes directed at some sort of park hidden in the forest.

"I need to think," she shouted, making sure it was loud enough so she didn't need to repeat.

She paced around the forest for about fifteen minutes. The outrage rose, disappeared only to appear again when she rethought what had just happened. If she returned Killian would want to talk about it and Emma did not. She was in a bad mood before and instead of ameliorating, he had worsened it and brought it to a level Emma hadn't even deemed possible. She grabbed her earbuds out of the pocket of her jacket and forcefully pushed them into the hole of her phone. She shoved them into her ears and chose the loudest music she had in her music library, blasting the sound to vent.

Returning to the car, Emma spotted Killian sitting on the hood, fiddling with the rings on his hands. He jumped off as he saw her and approached her. Emma swerved to avoid him and settled into the Bug, clasping her seat belt and passive-aggressively showing him that she wanted to leave.

Killian got into the seat next to her and addressed her.

"Swan, we need to talk about it."

She could barely hear him over the music screaming into her ears.

"No, we don't. Just focus on the road. I'd like to get to Arizona as quick as possible and maybe not arrive in the middle of the night for once," she bit.

Killian's shoulders sagged in defeat, his left hand combed through his hair while his other one turned the key and ignited the engine. Emma closed her eyes and focused on nothing but the music.

-/-

 _Phoenix, Arizona_

 _"_ The only room we have left is one with a queen-sized bed," the man behind the motel counter told them.

Killian quickly looked over his shoulder to her and Emma averted her gaze.

"That will do." Killian extended his hand and accepted the keycard from the balding man.

"Room 102."

"Thank you very much," Killian thanked him and grabbed his bag off the floor. Emma stayed where she was in the beige sofa. She didn't move an inch, not even when Killian told her he was going upstairs and left a spare key for her on the coffee table.

It was late and Mary Margaret tended to go to bed early and there was a two-hour difference between Arizona and Maine. But Emma was also going through an emergency and she wouldn't consider it too late to call someone for an emergency. Especially when one of two only people who could calm her down was also the cause of the distress. Wishing her friend was still up, she dialed the loft's number and nibbled her lip as the dial tone sounded.

"Hello?"

Emma was about to cry of relief when the sound of Mary Margaret's soft voice found its way to her ears.

"Hi, Mary Margaret. It's Emma."

"Emma," she greeted her enthusiastically despite the late hour. "It's great to hear you, honey. How are you?"

"I'm alright." She wasn't actually, but if she blatantly admitted that Mary Margaret would probably instantly hop on a plane to help her in person. "I hope I'm not bothering you."

"No, no. David and I were just out to dinner. Is everything alright?"

Her friends knew her too well. Three sentences over a phone call that connected two people three thousand miles away and Mary Margaret had already figured her out.

Emma filled her lungs with oxygen and let air escape again through her lips.

"He said he loved me, Mary Margaret," she said straight to the point.

"And what did you say?"

She didn't need any specifications as to who said he loved her nor did she seem surprised about the recent event in her life. The first thing wasn't really remarkable, the second definitely was.

"Nothing," Emma responded. "I ran away and he wants to talk about it but I don't."

"But you love him too right."

"Yeah, of course."

It started out platonically and then suddenly it wasn't anymore. A different light was cast upon him, highlighting every aspect of him that Emma used to like and then suddenly loved. She had known long enough for her to go from discomfort to a sense of assuredness. Emma was in love with Killian and she could live with that.

"Then what's the problem?"

She couldn't live with the knowledge that he loved her too.

"I don't know," she admitted. Because she really did not. The reasons for her anger were idiotic, even she realized that, but her head was a blur of emotions. "It would be real, I guess. What if it doesn't work out? We're stuck with each other."

"Honey. Why on earth wouldn't it work out?" Mary Margaret questioned. "You love each other. You're two peas in a pot and you've already survived three months on the road."

As usual, Mary Margaret was right. Why would taking their relationship from platonic to romantic change anything drastically? She loved him as a friend and she'll love him as more than that. And as he professed earlier, so would he. After a moment of silence, Emma changed the subject.

"How's David?"

"Fine, good," Mary Margaret added after a short pause. "I mean, we're both good."

Instead of her best friend's usually calm and serene voice, her answer came a bit rushed. As if Mary Margaret was guilty of something Emma had no knowledge of.

"Mary Margaret?" Emma said, prompting her to spill what was wrong.

"He proposed," she shared. "And I said yes."

So nothing was amiss. The strange thing, however, was that the announcement lacked every ounce of cheerfulness Mary Margaret normally carried, it was like it was something to be sad about.

"But that's great, right?" Emma wondered.

"It is." The short answer did nothing to reassure Emma and she was about to ask another question when Mary Margaret resumed talking. "I know you think we're stereotypical, that we're boring. Vanilla. And that' you left because you got sick of us, but, Emma, this is how I want it."

Emma's heart contracted as a response. Of course, that wasn't the reason. She loved Mary Margaret and David. They were so important to her and she owed them. Maybe she hadn't been appreciative enough of them, of what they meant to her. It wasn't new information that she could be lousy with telling what she felt but at least she thought Mary Margaret knew all of this.

"No, Mary Margaret. That's not true," she disagreed. "You don't know how many times I wanted to give up and return to be with you two again. But I needed to do this, for myself. I needed to discover who I was. Because I couldn't get any further than an orphan and a waitress and that's a pretty pathetic way to sum up twenty-five years." Her eyes became blurry as tears took over. "I respect you both so much and part of that is because you know exactly who you are. Wonderful people, an astonishing couple. One day, I want exactly what you have. I want the stereotype."

There. She said it. Emma Swan yearned for a house to call her home, the white picket fence life with all its bells and whistles.

"With Killian?"

"Yeah," Emma sighed, rubbing her hand over her cheek and under her eyes to get rid of the tears and of the exhaustion. "With Killian. I should go talk to him, shouldn't I?"

"You should," Mary Margaret advised in her Mom voice.

"Thanks, Mom." Her joke was accompanied by a watery laugh. "And I'm so, so happy for you and David."

"You better make it back on time because I can't do this without my maid of honor."

Even though it was quite a logical pick, Emma still felt the emotion swirling inside of her. She was a long way from being that small orphan without any friends and loved ones.

"I will," she vowed. "Love you."

"Love you too."

Emma finally went upstairs. Quietly, she opened the door and dropped her bag next to Killian's. Killian was lying on the bed, eyes shut and head buried in the white pillow. She heard his breath hitch as the door closed with a soft thud and saw his shoulders tense. Even though it looked like it, he was not asleep yet. Toeing her shoes off, her socked feet walked on the carpeted floor, crossing the distance between the two of them. Emma lay across him, her hands folded under her head.

"Hey," she whispered cautiously, afraid of waking him in case she did read the signs wrong, in case his earlier movements were subconscious or as a reaction to something that happened in his dream.

There was a moment of quiet with only steady breathing, a heartbeat or five before his eyes opened, before the blue irises shone in the dimmed light. They scanned her face, most likely looking for clues as to what the subject of the following conversation was. Emma understood that. She'd treated him abominably before, for no valid reason and it was time to apologize.

"Hey," he replied, with a whisper too.

For a small moment, the fear emerged again, scaring her from starting with the topic they've been dancing around for a day. So she chose something less scary, something that she could predict, their reactions and the things that were going to be said.

"Mary Margaret and David are getting married," she announced.

Killian's eyes lids closed as he let out a sigh before his lips twitched into a carefully crafted smile.

"I know," he replied. When Emma's brow furrowed in a question, he elaborated. "David called me this morning with the news that he was going to propose this evening, I take it she accepted."

Her head moved on the pillow, a rustle coming from the nod.

"She did."

"Good," he stretched the word out as long as he could, probably suspecting that there wasn't much to say about the upcoming event anymore, not before Mary Margaret and David really started planning and left the happy bubble they were in now.

"Killian, l-" He watched her and from under her eyelashes Emma gazed back at him. She put a lock of hair behind her ear, the motion perfect for the hesitance she was experiencing. It was her task to incite the conversation. He definitely wasn't going to take the initiative, his former attempts were deflected by her and he knew better than to push her.

"I'm sorry, Killian," Emma said, finally addressing the elephant in the room.

"I'm sorry as well," he immediately responded.

That was unexpected. Why was he apologizing?

"For what?" she questioned.

"Telling you." His face contorted with remorse. "Ruining our trip." His guilt drenched every word, creating Emma's own guilty shame inside of her.

"You didn't." Her hair moved back onto her face because of how heavy she was shaking her head. Killian did not ruin the trip. If anyone was going to be successful in turning it all into a nightmare, it was definitely going to be her. "I was the one who was acting horribly and very unfair towards you."

"It's alright," he reassured and seemingly forgave her instantly. "I get it if you don't reciprocate what I feel. I won't mention it again, but, Emma, I don't want to lose my best friend."

She didn't answer. She thought about what she was going to answer, formulated a sentence or two and then mentally scratching them off the sheet of paper in her head. This was the moment she was supposed to make everything alright and better again.

"Emma?"

"I love you too," she blurted out.

His eyes widened in shock.

"I have known it for a while but when you suddenly said proclaimed your love for me I became overwhelmed and I became afraid of what it meant and I am sorry," she rambled.

A tiny tear escaped before Emma realized it but Killian noticed and caught it with his thumb. After wiping it away, his hand stayed on her face and his thumb kept making the caressing movement even though it wasn't necessary anymore.

"You love me too?" he asked, even though she had just told him so. Killian had to be sure.

She gazed into his eyes, connecting the both of them so he could see she wasn't lying or making something up or saying it to show her pity. It wasn't just a platonic _I love you_ , it was an "I love you and I'll happily spend the rest of my life with you but I'm also kind of scared what this means, I'm so glad you are here" I love you.

"I do."

The meaning of those two simple words wasn't lost on Killian. Maybe in a couple of years, she would tell Killian those same words, tying their relationship for eternity. It was far too premature to start talking about weddings when they hadn't even kissed yet, but the very clear image kept on looping inside of Emma's head.

It seemed as if Killian was going to cry as well, but eventually, instead of little beads of water, a striking grin broke out on his face.

"I love you, Emma Swan," he repeated and this time Emma stayed exactly where she was, she didn't run. Killian opened his arms and she shuffled closer until her ear was placed over his heart, the steady thudding a comfort. His arms embraced her, holding her tightly and Emma felt his lips bury in her hair.

They loved each other.

"When you say you've loved me for a while," Killian mumbled against her locks, "how long exactly do you mean?"

Emma thought for a second.

"I guess two years or so. Maybe a bit longer."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why didn't you?" Shifting on the bed, Emma looked upwards to him, a smile on her lips. "You've been in love with me for a longer time."

"I suppose you have a point," Killian admitted with a smile of his own before kissing her forehead.

"So now that we've established that we love each other, what are we going to do?" Her hand trailed along his arm, drawing random figures on his skin with her nails.

"I suggest we continue our trip, simply with a little less bickering and a little more making out."

Emma playfully swatted him on the chest as he smirked.

"Hey!" he shouted.

In the silence that followed, Emma thought of something.

"If David called you this morning, did he ask you to be his best man?" she asked.

"He did." Killian nodded. "You're maid of honor?"

"Uhuh," she hummed in reply.

"I suppose we have an official first date, Swan."

"Yeah… I don't think so," Emma declined, moving out of Killian's embrace. "I'm not going to be able to wait that long." The worried look on his face disappeared as she leaned over him, placing her lips against his.

Going on a road trip with your best friend was great, but going on a trip with your best friend/ boyfriend? Fucking extraordinary


End file.
